The Grove wouldn’t stop here. It wouldn’t let us proceed untested.
Mavik and Orion stayed beside Lioran. “We will deliver you safely,” Mavik said. “You have my sword, Prince Lioran and Princess Aelira.”
“Thank you.” My lips quivered as I spoke.
He was taken from his horse. He could have lost his life, and yet he remained.
They would abandon us, but he would not.
My eyes met his and his head lowered.
The Grove’s cries became unrelenting screeches. We marched the horses onward. Gaia’s ears pinned back. The branches rotated in a nearby tree, as if they were watching. Waiting to strike again.
A howl reverberated through the haunted space. The heavy mist that clung to the air thickened. A low hiss crept over the ground. Black smoke rose from ash. My insides twisted.
A beast formed. Steady, black legs gave way to iron claws. Its muscles taut. The smoke faded until I saw its head. The creature assembled piece by piece as if it was sculpted. Every hair on my arms raised as it stalked closer. Each threatening breath it took released puffs of steam.
Its inky fur glittered under fragments of sunlight that cast through the canopy of barren branches overhead. A bone-rattling roar released from its mouth—its canines glimmered, dripping with crimson.
With each step, it stalked slowly toward us.
Fyn drew his sword, followed by Mavik and Orion. My fingers wrapped around the shaft of my arrow as I set it in place. I pulled back the strings with vibrating force.
Lioran didn’t move.
He didn’t even reach for his sword.
The creature’s black bulging eyes shifted toward him.
I needed him to move, to do something. He couldn’t just sit there unarmed.
“Lower your weapons,” Lioran warned, his voice steady.
“I can take it,” I said.
With a swift pull of the strings, I could save us all.
“Put it away, Aelira.” Lioran’s hushed words hit me like screams in the darkness. “Now.”
Lioran’s hand raised—a golden glow that whirled at his fingertips. I felt his magic like it was mine. Until it vanished.
The beast paced in front of Veylar, unfazed by Lioran’s wordless commands.
Its eyes locked onto mine—it called to me, threatening me. It sneered, its fangs still dripping with its latest kill. The stench carried between us.
My magic pulsed violently, loosening my grip on the bow, but still I would not lower it. The trees around me whirled as my view distorted, darkness crept in at the corner of my vision.
Lioran’s hand lifted—he tried to call his magic again. The string of the bow rubbed my cheek raw as it hovered against my skin.
The creature darted for Lioran. I froze. Inky smoke engulfed him—I couldn’t see him anymore.
I wailed, crumpling in the saddle—my sobs echoing in the Grove.
“I’m fine!” he yelled. Dust settled back into fallen ash.
“I don’t… understand.” Cora pulled her horse up behind Gaia. “What does it want from us?”
“You don’t know?” Fyn settled back in his saddle.
